The smell of ash and burnt flesh permeates the surroundings. The scattered debris portrays a tragic event, yet it was a defining moment, a legacy of the world to come. The sight of victory that washes over death itself, a revolution against the status quo.
On the far sides, some of the myriads had their eyes wide open, mouths agape, adrenaline pumping. Without facing any danger, their bodily hair rose, and streaks of lightning spurred through their backs. Eventually, once reality dawned upon them, and once their safety was confirmed,
They fell onto their backs, bottoms, or simply stared in confusion. They did not know what to think or what to do after all. Even though they wanted to live, they were already prepared to die. However, it seemed as if fate had another plan for them.
Thus, with a collective sigh of relief, they relaxed their muscles, and once it sank in, they all collectively stared at Quagmire, who was standing before them.
